Broken things
by Marina Ka-Fai
Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 1****

Lancel's eyes slowly opened as he heard his alarm clock ringing, disturbing the peaceful silence of his dark room. With one swift move of his hand, he set it off and allowed himself to close his eyes again, just for five minutes, the time he needed to adujst to the change of state that was waking up. He usually was a morning person, but with some of the medicine he was forced to take, some he had to continue, he felt constantly tired and getting up from bed seemed like a struggle sometimes. This morning was not the case fortunately. He left his sheets, drew back his curtains and let the morning light enter as he opened his window. Then he grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom.

In less than fifteen minutes, he was washed, dressed and his bed already made.

That was mechanical, he didn't even have to think and in his current state, the less he thought, the better he felt. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked ghastly and he knew it. First of all, black wasn't his colour at all, it drained the colours from his already pale face. However, he didn't feel like wearing something else anyway. He had no way to describe properly how he felt, but he knew that was the only way he could hope to make people understand that the way he was now, he couldn't help it, he didn't do it for attention, heck, all he actually wanted was to be left alone and if he had been allowed to, he would never go out, face the world, attend school. He'd remain safely locked inside his room, helping around the house and the only trip outside would be to take out the trash or retrieve the mail. Wearing colours meant pretending he was okay, which he wasn't. He felt tired of pretending, like he used to, before all this mess. He studied himself again. He wasn't particulary built before but here, he looked like a bag of bones. He ate when hungry, but he ate less than usual, not that he felt hungry a lot. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was so pale he wondered if he wasn't dead and his body was just animated by magic or necromancia. His eyes didn't have the same glow. No wonder people picked on him, he looked just so different, so...

Gone.

It certainly was scary and people didn't react well to difference or scary things, he knew.

He made his way to the kitchen, passing by his brother's room.

The baby brother he had lost.

His room, which was always filled with games sounds, with laughs, was now desperately empty and mute.

Just like him, he thought.

Not far away, he could see his other brother, Martyn, who had been spared the fate of his twin Willem, but who, in exchange, had been cursed by having to live now stuck in a wheelchair. And that was his fault entirely.

Even if the man who crashed into their car had refused him the priority he was entitled to have.

Even if the man didn't run away and actually called the emergencies, confessed, apologized.

Even if the police proved him he wasn't to blame, that he was innocent.

He could still see everything, the smell actually coming back to his nose, the mixture of burnt, of blood...

And the sight of Willem laying down, his green eyes, so similar to his own, deprived of all their glee, his blond hair tarnished by crimson blood, his body being covered by a linen by men who had sorrow painted on their faces.

He had wanted to move, to be with him as life was leaving him if he hadn't been killed on the spot, to tell the men to leave him be, that he was alive, that they had no right to take him. But the pain had been overwhelming and all he had been able to do was stare, powerless, not even strong enough to cry. For some reason, he hadn't been able to cry, to numbed, even when knowing this was real. Even when told Willem was gone, he hadn't cried. During the funerals, he hadn't cried. He had just stood there, watching as the coffin was put in the hole, wondering how a tall young man like his brother could have fit in that tiny box, holding the hand of his almost four years old sister, who had innocently asked their father why they were putting her brother in a box under the ground. He wasn't a tree. And he wouldn't be able to breathe down there. Lancel still wondered how Kevan had done to answer his daughter without breaking down completely. He couldn't remember his response to be honest, just that his father had remained the same man he had known for his entire life: tall and dignified. He couldn't understand why this had to happen. But on top of that, he would never be able to understand why no one was mad at him. He was a kinslayer, even if he hadn't meant to, he had been the one driving after all, and no one was mad at him. No one blamed him. His parents and siblings just continued loving him while he had robbed them of a son, of a brother. To this silence, he would have prefered violence, screams and tears so that pain could be forgotten, buried along his poor baby brother.

"Oh, good morning, sweetie! Did you sleep well?" His mother asked when she spotted him

He tried to smile, for her sake, and nodded. Seeing her trying to be cheerful, to go on for their sakes, he desperately wanted to speak up, to really answer, to apologize.

But he couldn't.

Not anymore.

Ever since the accident, he hadn't been able to utter a word. At first, the doctors had thought it was just due to the several shocks but when he had tried, later on, to answer his father on a simple question, despite opening his mouth, moving his lips, apart from air coming out of his lungs, no real sound escaped from his throat. He remembered his panic and his father asking for help right away. After examinations, it seemed that his vocal cords were fine, they hadn't been hurt but durning the accident, he had certainly seen something that traumatized him psychologically and caused this reaction, that was his body's way to cope and mend. He remembered his anger when a nurse had suggested it was because he wasn't putting any effort. And the shock of the assembly when he had written down that yes, he should try and make an effort putting words on the fact that he had litteraly seen his brother dying, unable to rescue him, his eyelids being shut by fingers and his covered body being taken away. He remembered the horror on his father's face when he learnt. That had occurred three months ago.

He tried to smile, to show a good face, even if he was actually in agony deep inside, because his parents deserved it, Martyn deserved it, Janei, so innocent, deserved it. His body had mended, but he still had medicine to take, for the bloody depression and the PTSD that were undermining him.

And once outside, he sighed, trying to gather his courage.

It was time to face the horrible war zone that was high school.

 **To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 2****

Despite being surrounded by people, by noises, by laughs, Lancel had never felt lonelier in his life. At home, alone, he knew he had a family who cared, it was just that they had to go on with their lives.

At school, no one cared.

No one bothered.

Some had offered him some words, like Sansa, but that was all. It was appreciated, but that was all. He could understand why. Once, he had been part of Joffrey's crew and to be accepted, he had acted both the fool and the cruel jerk. He had left him, apologized to his victims and while people seemed to have granted him absolution, he had found himself friendless, the ones claiming to like him showing that all they liked in him was the fact that he was Joffrey's family, thus a way to get closer to the golden Baratheon heir. It had hurt at first, then he hadn't cared.

That was karma.

But now that he was so hurt, he actually craved at least one friend, even if faked, because being alone hurt so much! He needed someone else than his immediate family to enjoy him, because his immediate family had no choice in the matter. He felt invisvible, unwanted, and unwanted he was as Joffrey thought his current weakness was a perfect occasion to pick on him, out of spite and revenge. His locker had been tagged and filled with hateful notes. His desk had been damaged. When absent from class because of medical appointement, Joffrey actually offered money to people so they wouldn't give him the lessons he had missed. No one talked to him, no one acted whenever it could get physical. That was clever, he thought. It wasn't as if he could report that anyway. A piercing sound got him out of his thought. The sound of a car stopping brutally, making its wheels cry on the cement. It froze him right on the spot and soon enough, the crowd faded to reforme as a road, burning under the sun, and far away, so so far away, Willem was there, dying. The area was filled with the sirens of the paramedics, of the police, his own breathing and heartbeat, the moans of pain of Martyn, the panicked voice of the man who crashed them. And Joffrey's voice who broke the scenery, making reality rushing back painfully as he pushed him against a wall.

"Lost in thought again? Dude, that was three months ago, get over it."

Lancel only glared.

"Don't give me that look, that was only your brother. Not a son or anything. And a true man doesn't cry, but hey, we all know you aren't one."

"That's my issue, I haven't cried yet..." He thought

At another time, Lancel would have reacted, he would have tried to punch him but he felt tired. Tired of fighting back. Tired of being strong. Tired of it all. So he let Joffrey punch him in the stomach for the mere reason he was looking at him.

Everyone saw.

No one moved.

He could hear people whisper in pity, but no one moved. Just like no one moved when he and Joffrey were harassing Sansa.

That was karma.

He deserved that.

Joffrey left, allowing Martyn to see his brother against the wall. The shell of his brother to be precise. Martyn couldn't remember the last time he saw a genuine smile on his brother's lips. He missed his voice. He missed his awkwardness. He missed how he used to do the voices whenever he was reading to Janei. He missed hearing him practicing his guitar skill. Lancel was the ghost of the man he used to be ever since Willem had died. He ran on auto-pilot, didn't do anything he liked anymore, didn't do anything that could remind them all of Willem anymore, seeing him like this, it was as if he was losing another brother, simply this time, he could see him walking directly and willingly to his grave. He wouldn't open up to him, like he used to, even with written words, heck he didn't even dare to look at him for too long. He could understand. He painfully looked like Willem and now, he was forever sitting on a throne of iron with wheels. Whenever he saw himself in a mirror, he was remembered of Willem, of how he missed him. He was his twin, a part of him and it hurt so much he didn't wish that pain on anybody. But the truth was he missed Lancel. He missed him, he needed him, like the scared boy he used to be whenever thunderstorms were around. In a way, Lancel was his rock and even when hurt, he stood tall and proud. Here, he was broken, he was weak, he was human and Martyn blamed himself for both his powerlessness and his selfishness. He wanted to help but he didn't know how and Lancel was so closed that it was hard to tell how he felt like inside. He felt a soft hand in his shoulder and he glanced to see its owner. He smiled when he saw who it was. It belonged to a young woman around his age, with long black hair, clear blue eyes and pale skin. She was of average height. Her features were delicate and all in her reminded him of a medieval noble lady. A noble lady who happened to be his girlfriend. Mary White. Nicknamed Snow White by many due to her appearance.

"Lancel will be okay." She said sweetly. "As long as you are with him and as long as he knows you love him, he will be okay."

"I wish I could do more."

She gently embraced him as he watched Lancel enter his classroom. The man didn't even sat that he spotted something on his damaged desk.

Some white flower in a vase.

"Pretty clever." He noted in silence

In Japan, when a student died, his comrades put flowers on his desk as a tribute. But to put such flowers on a living person's desk meant the class wished for his demise. They were kindly saying to Lancel they wanted him gone for good, that his suicide would be cheered and celebrated. Pretty clever, he thought again. Most of the teachers weren't aware of that fact. And Willem had been fond of the asian culture, from the mangas to the main history of the land. He took a handkerchief and tried to erase some of the new writings he found, not even thinking of what they meant.

"Hello, Lancel." A teacher greeted as he entered

Lancel offered him a nod and the ghost of a smile. Fortunately enough, the teachers seemed to understand that his silence was beyond his control. They seemed to find it normal that he was under depression and PTSD after what happened. However, the man frowned when he saw his actions.

"You know, if you put more efforts into it, people would stop bullying you."

It was cruel. Lancel knew that. He knew it was wrong. He didn't care though. Before, it would have hurt him but now, he was too numb to even be offended by such a horrible statement, to be shocked that the teachers wanted the victims to act and not to protect them themselves. It was easier that way. He just stared at the wood and continued erasing the best he could. He just wanted to go home, to lock himself in his room or to watch over Janei as their mother would prepare dinner. He sat down and stared at the blackboard, just wishing the day would end quickly.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 3****

Mary White had many qualities. For people all around her, she was the epitome of kindness, of selflessness, of hope, of determination. While she admitted she had a good heart, she only thought it was natural to care for others because she deeply believed that if someone did good around him, the world, in a way, would help him back someday. And among her qualities, she was patient. She had understood when she was told Martyn didn't want to see anyone right after the accident. He was hurt, he was grieving, he had to come to accept that not only he was now crippled, he had also lost a half of him by losing Willem. She understood why he never spoke of what happened. She understood he never really spoke of Willem. Yes, Mary understood many things and waited with good will. But now, she was running out of patience. Martyn was growing distant and she didn't know , being in a wheelchair after fifteen years of being valid was a hard thing to come to terms with. She understood he needed time, time away from her. But now, this was bothering her.

Mary White had many qualities.

Few people knew she had quite her share of flaws too.

She could be really really stubborn when it came to it.

 _XXXXX_

He missed Mary.

Heck, he missed her and craved her like crazy and wanted nothing more to be with her, to hear her laugh. He wanted them to continue being what they were before this whole mess started.

It couldn't though.

Before, he was a man on his two feet. He didn't consider himself a half-man, because that would have been insulting all the people in wheelchairs. He deemed himself broken and Mary, who had suffered enough already in her life, deserved better. Mary had lost her mother at an age she could remember all of it. Mary's dad, while loving his daughter, saw the ghost of his past wife in her. And now, Mary was the girlfriend of a broken teenager. A girlfriend... More like a nurse. While he knew she'd care for him, help him and do it with a smile, he felt she deserved better in life that helping him sitting down on toilets. The last thing he could do to prove his love to her would have been to let her go but the thought was horrible.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He read as a paper was put under his nose

Lancel had sat next to him. Martyn felt bad as he could almost see the bones on his brother's arm. Not that Lancel had been particulary chubby before but that was unsettling.

"Just girl stuff." He replied

He didn't want Lancel to know how he doubted himself, how unmanly he thought he was, to the point he even wondered if he could father kids one day or even try to.

"Mary loves you, you know." Martyn read again

"That's the problem. She loves me and she will waste her life because of it. It's a man she needs, not a lifetime patient."

"You are a man. Dad gave you his Y chromosome."

"Very funny."

"Mary doesn't see your chair as a part of you. She sees you, sitting on an object that helps you get around. She hasn't changed how she behaved around you?"

"No, but her eyes..."

"Of course she looks hurt. Not by you though. For you. Everyone has to get used to that. But she didn't change around you."

"She didn't."

"Then, she's a keeper. Talk to her. The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I learnt from you."

Martyn smirked.

" Martyn! Lany! Wanna watch Frozen with me? Mommy said I could!" Janei ran to them, smiling.

Lancel had a small smile, the same sad one he always wore and put the dvd on. He had seen the movie so many times he could quote it entirely by heart. But Janei being happy was worth another few days of a song stuck in his head.

 _XXXXX_

Martyn was always a quiet one. It allowed him to study his surroundings, the people, without being noticed. It came in handy when he tried to see if Lancel was right.

And he had to admit he was.

Mary hadn't changed one bit around him, as if he was still on his two feets. She had the same smile, the same habits, the same tender attentions towards him. She hadn't changed one bit. He did. And not for the better. She had seemed pissed when he first saw her but when he relaxed, he saw that she was only worried for him, for them. Yes, Mary did deserve better from him. She needed a man. Not a petulant child who had only been weeping about his condition. He suddenly remembered Bran Stark, stuck too in a chair, and Meera Reed loving him, accepting everything that came with him. He wondered how Lancel, who never had any relationship, had managed to aim so perfectly in the middle of his crisis.

"What are ou thinking off?" Mary asked

"That I should get muscles in my arms. So that I can drive you home."

Her laugh was the best sound he had heard in months.

 **To Be Continued**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 4****

Despite the days passing by, the letters and the numbers changing, the landscape evolving with the seasons, every day seemed just like the previous one for Lancel. Nothing ever changed in the bubble that was his life. Home, surviving school, sleep. Now, even some family members started to think he was faking being unwell, just to have attention, or that he was, in a way, happy to be in his misery as it made people look after him. He needed to "get over it". It was the good old "You're sad, you're mourning, you have some issues, we got it but damn son, just fucking smile and fake, okay?". Because it bothered them too much to see that he was slower in his grief, or anything else he was putting under their nose. His parents didn't say anything to him about it, he had no hint about how they felt whatsoever but he feared that, deep inside, they sided with them.

"They'd be right. I killed Willem after all, even if I didn't mean it."

Yet he feared that, because he had so little support and love already. Not that he particulary deserved the treat but love was like a sweet, an addictive drug, it felt painful sometimes but the next day, he couldn't go without it.

"They deserved better. They deserved to have a better first born. I'm a disgrace. I couldn't protect Willem. I sabotaged Martyn's life. And now, I can't even give them the satisfaction of having at least one healthy son. They'd be better off without me."

Lancel had often thought of suicide, when the depression kicked in, replacing the numbness he had felt for days after Willem's passing. He knew he wouldn't be particulary missed anyway. He had no friends who'd weep for him. His parents had another son who was better than him in any way, the son they deserved. Janei could look up to Martyn without feeling ashamed. For the rest of the family, he didn't really matter anyway. He was just there. A plant, an object in their vision field. It wasn't as if he was meant to do great things. He was said to be gorgeous but there were men more gorgeous around. He was good with foreign languages but there were people out there who spoke them better, who spoke more languages than he did. He wasn't bad at sports but in no way was he an athlete. He was good with a guitar but others were far better. He was just an average thing, some low brand, no one would really mourn his loss as a great one. Yet, somehow, he couldn't bing himself to even elaborate a suicide plan. The thought just crossed his head and left.

"A craven on top of that..."

He finished his lunch, alone, took the tray and made his way to dispose of it. Only to be tripped by Joffrey. It didn't fail, and soon enough he met the floor, under the laughs of many students.

"A good thing Willem didn't finish like your plate." Joffrey joked

Lancel's lack of response was irritating him.

"You think you're so much better than us, don't you?"

He got up and tried to grab him by the hair, only to be stopped in his action by the sight of someone new. Someone he wanted to bang to be honest. Just to see if she was up to her reputation of a gatehouse.

"Really funny. What are you? A kindergarden kid?" The voice scolded

She knelt to Lancel.

"Are you okay?" She asked

Lancel raised his head. Facing him was a young woman around his age. She seemed tall, as she had long legs. Despite being covered due to the cold, her breast size could be guessed by the shape it gave to her sweater. She had a pinched chinless face, doe brown eyes and long strawberry long hair. He had to admit she was really pretty. He had seen her around, only knew her name and nickname.

Amerei Frey, Gatehouse Ami.

Rumours had it she had been found by her parents in a sexual intercourse that involved her and three men. Joffrey had tastelessly stated that she had done well, all of her holes would have been taken. Though she still had two hands for two more lucky fellows.

"Wanna bang him? He can't talk, you wouldn't know if he likes it." Joffrey said

"His body would speak for him. It arouses me more than sweaty pigs talking dirty in my ear while pounding me." She sassily replied

She silently helped him in gathering what had been shattered and then helped him on his feet.

"It's really tasty and funny to pick on someone who clearly isn't in any position to fight back." She declared coldly

"He does no effort to get better." Joffrey tried to defend himself

"How would you know? You don't know him. You don't try to. I hope you never fall ill, Joffrey."

She accompanied Lancel to the tray disposal. His racing mind was showing on his face. Why did she help him? What made her to? Was it a bet? Why now?

"Have they been at it for long?" She asked him

He nodded.

"I'm sorry. Had I seen it sooner, I would have acted."

He offered her a simple and small smile. She observed him. He looked so fragile, about to break at any moment, it was a wonder he managed to keep going like he did. She wanted to help but she didn't want him to believe she did it out of pity. That was why she carefully said:

"We should hang out sometimes, if you want. A pretty boy like you shouldn't be alone."

He had looked taken aback and she could see he wanted to laugh. That was a start. He gave her a small note, a simple thank you, that made her feel warm inside. She looked at him as he left, wondering if he'd be okay. She couldn't be his crutch, she knew. But she knew how it felt like to suffer in silence, unable to speak up in many ways. She too, after school, would have to face yet another moment of unsought and unwanted pain. She just hoped her birth control was strong enough.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 5****

"Your little whore won't be here to save you this time."

Lancel didn't move as he received yet another punch in the stomach. He had barely eaten and the shock made him feel like retching.

"I don't know what she sees in you."

To be honest, Lancel didn't either. All he knew was that it had felt nice when she helped him.

"Make no mistake, she pities you. All she wants I the experience of fucking a depressed emo and freak mute. If you can get hard that is."

His mind screamed when Joffrey grabbed him by the crotch. It felt wrong on so many levels but he didn't have the strength to fight back. They were several. He was just one guy. If he fought back, it would be worse, it would always be worse, he had learnt that watching as Joffrey bullied others. It would be over soon, he just had to wait. However, he seemed puzzled by Joffrey's surprised look.

"Oh my... It seem you do have one in fact. I'm surprised a fag like you has one like that. But, having one doesn't mean you can do anything with it except piss, and in your case, like a girl."

It felt wrong, so wrong and yet he couldn't do anything. That wouldn't bring him anything good. Not even reporting it to his own parents would help. All it would bring would be discord between the family. Joffrey was Cersei's golden son. Lancel's just jealous, she'd say. He's jealous, bitter and angry because Joffrey is healthy, has all his siblings by his side. Lancel just wants to attract attention towards him. My son can't possibly be a bully and do sexual assaults, she'd say. Even if brought the evidences, she'd deny them, stating they'd be fake or something. For once, he was surprised to actually feel tears coming up to him, without gathering in his eyes. He could feel the lump in his throat, the burning in his eyes and a little voice in him was begging for everything to stop, he begged for anyone to come, he begged for his father, he begged for the Gods, he begged for a heart attack to kill him instantly, anything, if it'd stop that. He knew nothing would happen though. Joffrey could humiliate him and even rape him in that corridor, no one would move a finger. He knew he had earnt some parts of what happened to him, he had been horrible himself before. But did he deserve to be soiled that way in front of everyone so everyone would know he was sorry? Because he did apologize to all the people he had hurt. He hadn't expected forgiveness, he understood they were skeptical, but in the end, weren't they just like him? Seeing someone being harassed and not acting? Were they scared? He guessed so. They were right, Joffrey was a dangerous creature after all. No one would come. He had to accept that.

"You know, I'm all for sexual freedom and all, but clearly, your paramour isn't into it."

The voice was clear, jokeful but firm. And familiar. Lancel had kept his eyes on the ceiling al the time, but that voice made him lower them.

Amerei was standing there, tall and proud, fierceness coming from her yet her face was nothing but softness and smiles.

"My paramour? Bah. He should thank anyone that would actually fuck him."

"The law would be against you, my dear. You wouldn't want to be in prison for that, would you?"

Joffrey unhanded Lancel and left, angry but reasoned. Amerei gently took him by the arm and led him somewhere they could be alone. He was pale and shaky. If there was one thing Amerei despised, it was abuse. Sexual abuse even more. Sex could be fun just as it could be lethal. Yes, Lancel hadn't been the best before, but he didn't deserve to be sexually abused in school out in the open. They sat and she let him breathe.

"It's over now. How do you feel?" She asked softly

If she had been surprised, she hid it well as he suddenly burst into silent tears. She delicately embraced him and let him vent out. She suspected he had hold back for a long time. She could feel his shaky body against her, and while she knew it was just a small part of the pain he had inside, it felt so strong and destroying. It was a wonder he hadn't tried to commit suicide sooner. She vowed she'd be around him more. Without smothering him but if she was seen around him, Joffrey would leave him be. Perhaps she could even have him make some friends. Lancel didn't know why he was breaking down. Why now? Why with her? Was it because she was the first one to offer kindness to him in months? All he knew was that he couldn't bear it anymore. He was exhausted, he just wanted everything to stop and in Amerei's arms, for a while, it felt warm and enjoyable.

"You should go home and rest. Do you want me to call anyone?"

Lancel refused. He caused his parents enough pain already.

"Well, at least, stay and eat with me. It's lunch time, after all."

So they sat outside, enjoying the sun, Amerei babbling away, trying to lift his spirits and in a way, she did. Sometimes, through the cracks, she could see a genuine enjoyment. Until his eyes looked worried, fixed on her arm, covered with marks.

"Don't worry, I'm just very clumsy."

He didn't seem to buy it though. However, he didn't pry, for that she was grateful.

"Is this why she's nice to me? Because she suffers too? She cannot do that on her own, those marks... Is she beaten?"

Lancel wondered how he could get to know about it, how to ask his aunt Genna, who had married in the Frey family, without raising suspicions. He wanted to help, just like she did.

"As if you could. You couldn't save Willem. You couldn't protect Martyn."

He resumed eating, listening as Amerei continued to chat about diverses subjects.

For once, when he was home, about to fall asleep, he was actually excited to go to school the following day, so he could hear Amerei telling him the rest of the theories she had heard on the show they both enjoyed.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 6****

Martyn sighed as he tried to advance in the corridor. Despite his efforts, some moves still seemed stiff and hard to realize. People had been kind enough to ask him if he needed any help. He gently refused. He couldn't always rely on others. The worst thing was that the school, despite its efforts, wasn't still very well adjusted to people in wheelchairs. He remembered his shame when the elevator broke down, forcing him to accept the fact that he had to be carried bride style by Lancel, a classmate taking care of the chair. Lancel had tried to joke, saying it reminded him of the time he and Willem were babies, back home. Lancel... The more he thought of him, the more he realized he needed to step up and be a better brother to him. He didn't open up but he knew him well enough to know he blamed himself for the accident, for Willem, for the handicap, as it was him who had suggested visiting a shop that had opened in a neighbouring city. Lancel was litteraly suffering in silence because he couldn't speak. Yes, he suffered too and his suffering wasn't any lesser than his brother's. It was different. But it was painfully obvious that Lancel forced himself to get up, to dress, to smile, to be there, when all he wanted to do was just be hidden and forgotten somewhere, like a wounded lion licking his wounds, waiting to be better before roaring again. He was clearly unwell and he coudn't even count on his own brother. What a joke. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the can lying around and as he rolled, he lost control and felt himself falling...

Head first to the stairs.

So, that was it. He was spared death along his twin only to break his family a bit more months after.

He felt a strength pulling the chair back to the floor. He looked at his saviour once he catched his breath.

"Not bad, am I?"

Mary.

Of course.

"People should really be more conscious about what they do."

She threw the can in the garbage bin.

"Now, I think you and I need to talk."

 _XXXXX_

Mary had ordered his favourite tea while she enjoyed hot cocoa. She had happily chatted away with Meera before joining him.

"Anything new?" Martyn asked

"Meera and I are organizing an event for the school. The principal agreed. How does this sound? A day where students and teachers are invited to put themselves in the handicaped people's shoes? They'd have to sit in chairs, being pushed around or trying to move. They'd wear sunglasses and walk with a white stick. Meera and I think it could open their eyes on the difficulty of being handicaped without blaming them for being valid. Many people don't realize how handicap can affect a life unless it falls on their noses."

"This is bloody brilliant! Mary, you're brilliant! That's an amazing concept! You should spread it to the city! Maybe it could even go national!"

"Now, there's my optimistic man!"

He seemed puzzled as she sipped from her mug.

"I've been worried lately. True, you managed to get over it, but... You have been pretty distant lately. I thought, maybe... Well, maybe I did or said something." She explained

"No, you didn't. It was me, angstying away. I'm sorry. I've been selfish."

"No, you weren't. You went through something most people never will. I understood it took time, I just... I was just worried. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

He nodded, smiling sadly. He wasn't proud at all.

"You'd slap me if you knew."

"Have I ever hit you?"

Seeing she still managed to make him smile made her happy.

"I thought... I thought I wasn't worthy of you anymore. That with me, you'd be a nurse and not a lover. That you deserved a true man. One that can walk. One that can, one day... Start a family with you, with biological kids, I mean. I thought that... That you deserved better."

She stared at him and he got worried he had upsetted her.

"It's you I want. And maybe I'm the one not worthy of a guy that thinks of all of that for his loved one. A nurse can be a lover, there is enough porn of it on the internet to prove you wrong."

He was about to speak up when she spoke again.

"You are a man. You identify yourself as one. You have the genitals of one. And I don't care if it cannot work in any other way that letting piss go out of your body. A family isn't about having kids, it's about being with someone who understands and loves you completely. If I want a biological kid, there is the sperm bank. There is adoption too. Family isn't about blood. I love you. That's all I need to know. That's all you need to know."

Her smile made him forget all of his anxiety.

Mary really was one hell of a fine lady.

 _XXXXX_

"I just can't believe it got renewed for a seventh season when the writing went downhill, when the grades dropped, when half the cast isn't renewed... Talk about a great show turning into a pile of shit... And all the slaps it gives to people abused around with how they handle such issues."

Lancel just listened and nodded. He wished he could reply instead of writing. He was glad he could communicate, but that didn't have the same feeling. Amerei had been true to her word and once she spotted him at school, she immediately greeted him, they walked together, they shared lunch, he was even introduced to her little sisters, Walda and Marissa. Willem had had a mad crush on Marissa and Lancel was a bit surprised, he was fiery and she so shy, but they would have made a cute pair in his eyes. Walda was a ball of sass and energy and she had scolded him for being too skinny. The next day, she had baked him so many cakes that his family had enough of pastries for the rest of the week. He did enjoy the Frey sisters a lot and they seemed genuine in their friendship. He was happy but he couldn't help but feel it was wrong. He knew it wasn't, but it felt like it. Now, on top on the usual nightmares of Willem's death he had, Amerei haunted his nights, she abandoned him, leaving him to be eaten alive by Joffrey and others.

"Amerei always takes your defence... And you can't grow dependant of her..."

"Still at it with your mute dildo?" Joffrey taunted

"At least, Lancel is a true man, he doesn't kiss and tell." She replied

She really made his time at school easier. He wondered why she was so nice, so drawn to him. He understood she was suffering too, the marks on her wrists still on his mind. Was it her way to heal too? Was she attracted because they were both messed up? Why had he grown so attached to her in such a short time? All of that was confusing and tiring but at least, he knew why he was tired this time.

He was having a friend for the first time in... Forever.

The thought of that made him smile.

When Kevan and Dorna saw him coming home after school, a small but true and warm smile on his lips, made them hope that their baby boy was on the road of being healthy again.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 7****

"With all due respect Uncle, I do think you are being too soft on him. It's been months. I understand his pain, but he doesn't seem to fight back."

Lancel just remained still, stitting on his chair, helping Janei by cutting her meat in small edible bites. He was so used to these words now.

"I appreciate your concern, Cersei. I really do. However, depression isn't something you can battle just like that. And to be honest, had I been in his shoes, I'd still be locked up in my house. Lancel chose to go back to school and his grades are surprisingly good."

Of course they were good. Lancel worked hard for three reasons. The first one meant he could focus on something and not think of the pain for a moment. The second reason meant the teachers left him in peace. But his last and main reason was that, this way, his parents were spared meetings, reproaches. He did that to protect them and that was the least he could do for them after murdering their son.

"It feels so empty without Willem..."

Whenever they went to his cousin Cersei for dinner, Tommen was happy because he had someone he could talk to about games. Joffrey disliked video games, stating they were for babies and Myrcella, while she enjoyed some games, was more into hand crafting. After dinner, the boys would be allowed to go to Tommen's room and play until they had to leave. Martyn was trying to fill the void and he would have loved to, if he had been able to speak or to function properly. The dinner had just started and he felt exhausted already. Tired of listening to his own bashing, tired of listening to Joffrey's lies while he made his life a misery at school. Amerei's class had gone to a field trip for a few days, so did Walda's and Marissa's and he had found himself all alone again, free to be tormented as his saviour wasn't around. He couldn't even defend himself. How pathetic. He was grateful for Amerei's kindness, he really was, but he was far beyond salvation. He was too old to change. He was just disposable garbage. The only thing he was good at was cleaning Willem's grave. Every friday, as he finished before Martyn, he took time to go to the graveyard and there, he took care of his baby brother. He cleaned the grave, made sure the flowers had water, that the marble was spotless, he rearranged the funeral ornements. It reminded him of the time when Willem was little, trying to tidy his room but he was as messy as his rebellious hair. Lancel would enter, suggest he could help, managing to reach higher shelves and as they grew, he offered him tip to tidy quickly and easily. The day Willem died, they had agreed to tidy his room when they'd be home, as he found it amusing to do, it never happened and now, his empty room was the perfect metaphor of their lives ever since he departed:

A bloody mess.

His father, despite his pain, the combined pain of a lost son, of a crippled one, of a broken one, managed to go on and he never saw him break or cry. He was their rock.

His mother had been destroyed, she had cried but she had kept going, for their sakes. She was her husband's rock, whenever he felt like breaking down.

Martyn was adjusting fast, not letting anything put him down again.

Even Janei, despite her young age and the fact that she missed Willem, was still a better rock for them all than he was.

Then, there was him. The murderer, the one that could not mend on his own, shattered like glass.

He was a bloody joke and they would all be better off without him. Without him, they would not have to face these kind of situations, they'd just have to focus on Martyn and Janei. He was a waste of attention, of place. Martyn was in a wheelchair and needed help until the house was completely functional for him. Janei was only four, she was growing up, she needed the guidance of their parents. He was taking that away from them. He was a murderer, a joke, a thief.

Yes, a thief.

He had stolen a son from them, he had stolen attention from his siblings, he had stolen time from the Frey sisters.

He needed to go, to be gone, for their sakes.

"Your parents, your siblings would miss you."

They'd cry, he knew. Because they had the misfortune of loving him when he wasn't worthy of anything, while he caused them nothing but pain. He was tired, tired of it all, tired of fighting, tired of his mind being hopeful one day to be clouded the following day.

He just kept on listening, watching over Janei, in silence, and while he heard his name being spoken once or twice, he felt and knew he was as invisible as he had always been.

Leaving wouldn't change anything.

Why did he keep on living then?

 _XXXXX_

Dorna smiled as she saw the lovely scene under her eyes. She took her phone, took a picture and sent it to her husband. She knew he enjoyed those little messages from home, as it broke work with a welcomed fresh air. Martyn had fallen asleep in his chair, Janei on his laps, cuddled against him. She too was sleeping tight and sound. She remembered Lancel, a few years ago, when Janei was a toddler, she had found them sharing a nap on the couch. She entered carefully, not wanting to wake them up, but Martyn was always a light sleeper.

"Hey Mom."

"Slept well?"

"Kinda. Lancel and I finished earlier. We picked Janei up and he went to Willem."

She nodded. She was grateful Lancel was taking care of that. Facing that stone, knowing her baby was slowly decaying underneath, was more than she could handle. However, she was worried. She knew Lancel was in pain too and that wasn't his job to soothe her, it was hers to soothe him. Her son, while depressed and ill, was being braver than her, a healthy woman.

"I should buy a side-car." Martyn said

"A side-car?" She replied, puzzled

"Yeah, to attach to the chair. So that way, Janei could drive along."

His smile made her heart feel warm and herself feel hopeful. Martyn was being way better. Now, they really needed to focus on Lancel. He had been neglected for too long, much to her shame. He was of age but he was still their baby boy and he too was suffering away.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 8****

As Lancel put down his pen in his desk, he sighed. He wondered how he had managed to go on for as long as he did, the way he did. And since no one had decided to trial him for his brother's murder, he'd deliver Justice himself.

"Who am I kidding? I'm doing that because I am just too stupid to live. There are ill people out there, fighting to live and look at me, healthy in body and ready to give up. I'm an insult to everyone."

The truth was he was tired of all. Tired of fighting. Tired of the pain. He wanted everything to stop. To free those who loved him from his venomous presence. What scared him was that he wasn't even scared while he was minutes away from dying.

"Was Willem scared? He didn't die right away, I heard... He saw me trying to reach to him and fail."

He looked around. Everything was perfect, no one would have to clean after his mess. That was the least he could provide. A clean room. No debts. No blood. It would have been a if he had fallen asleep. He let his words on his bedside. He thought of them. Of his parents. Of his siblings. Of the Frey sisters. Of Amerei. Especially of Amerei. He hoped she wouldn't feel like he did: like she failed. He hoped his last words to her would make her understand he was a lost cause.

It was time to go.

 _XXXXX_

"Lancel is awfully quiet tonight." Dorna worried

Kevan nodded. While their son hadn't spoke for months, they were used to hear him in other ways. The noises he made were small but they hinted them that he was occupying himself. Usually, Kevan would find him reading on his bed or watching a movie, some show, with a low sound because he didn't want to bother Martyn who could be studying or Janei if she had been put to bed. Kevan wondered if he did that because he felt like it or simply to kill time because nothing seemed good like it used to, before the accident. He got up, reading to check on him. And as he approached his room, an unpleasant and uncertain feeling was nestling in his stomach.

Something was wrong.

He found Lancel sleeping on his right side, still dressed and the light turned on. That didn't surprise him that much. He knew Lancel's medicine to be strong and tiring. It didn't surprise him to find some medicine near him on a table. For some reason, his son prefered taking his treatment alone, so they wouldn't see him swallow these pills. He wondered if he did that to spare them the pain of knowing they had a son battling with a crippling depression. But something was wrong, still so wrong. His eyes spotted the letters near him. And suddenly, all made sense, he didn't need to open the letter adressed to him. He knew. He found himself frozen in shock, unable to take his eyes away from his son. He felt completely numb, as if he was dreaming while he knew this was the sharp reality.

His son had killed himself.

Under their roof.

Alone.

And the scariest part was that no one even noticed.

No one noticed what he did.

How he felt.

How he felt the need to end it all.

Despite his hand shaking, he managed to check his pulse. It was still there, though too faint for his own liking. He heard steps behind him.

"Kevan?" His wife asked

He didn't turn to face her, he didn't want her to see their son in such a light.

"Dorna." He said in a clear voice that even surprised him.

She felt its shakiness though.

"I need you to keep Martyn and Janei occupied, just the time I need to get Lancel in the car and start driving."

He could feel her horror as she realized what was going on.

"Of... Of course. We'll join you later."

She left, understanding her husband all too well. He didn't want Martyn to be reminded of Willem's death by looking at Lancel's body. He didn't want to scare Janei with their panic, with the red light of the paramedics coming in. He wanted to spare Lancel future humiliations at social events because of the noises an ambulance coming to their place meant. He wanted to spare them the sight of their baby boy rushed to the ER.

He put the letters in his pocket and carefully picked up his child, making sure he didn't hurt him. He looked so fragile he was afraid to break him. He didn't know how he managed to do what he did afterwards. Adrenaline, he thought. He had driven safe and sound, but fast, to the hopsital, got Lancel checked in. It was only when alone in that white corridor, once Lancel was being taken care of, that he felt his resolution crumbling away.

He broke into tears, praying the seven gods to spare his baby boy's life.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 9****

"You saved his life, Mister Lannister. Had he been brought in later, it could have had severe consequences."

The doctors' words meant nothing to Kevan. While he was relieved beyond imagination that Lancel was going to live, he didn't feel like he had saved his life. On the contrary, he had doomed his child. He sat by his side, allowed to watch over him, as Dorna and the rest of their little pack were eating, or trying to eat. He stared at his son's sleeping form. He looked peaceful, which was unsettling. Was dying such a relief to him? However, he looked so thin, so fragile, as if he was going to break under his touch. He wondered where he went wrong. What did he do? What had he missed? What had he say? Or what didn't he do, miss or say?

"We were so focused on Martyn we missed Lancel's suffering. Martyn, that was under our nose, hard to miss the fact he's in a chair now. Lancel was just as crippled, though this couldn't be seen. We didn't try hard enough to see it. And he made sure no one would really see. He put Martyn first."

He gently grabbed his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Lancel." He whispered. "I've let you down. You too needed me and I left you on the side. I should have been there for you, grown up or not. I've failed you as a father."

His mind was still racing on the letter his son had left for him. He had left one for all those he cared enough to say goodbye. He hadn't opened Dorna's, he didn't need to, he knew what would be inside. He had read his own so much he could quote it by heart. Lancel was saying goodbye. Lancel was saying he loved him. Lancel was saying he had been the greatest dad possible, that he had been lucky to have had him. And while Lancel wasn't the one in the wrong, he had apologized. For this situation, for Martyn, for Willem, for being a failure, for not being the son he deserved. While it was Kevan himself who had missed all of his son's issues. Just because he had been too set on his other son. He had let Lancel down to the point he wouldn't open up to him and actually grow to believe he was a burden. That he was his brother's murderer. He had neglected Lancel to a criminal point.

"I don't deserve a better son. You deserve a better father."

Kevan just hoped it wouldn't be too late to mend his wrong doings, that Lancel wasn't too broken inside, that he would let him in.

While he knew it was selfish to think that way, he knew he wouldn't be able to bear burying another baby.

 _XXXXX_

At first, he felt nothing.

Then pain.

Then something in the way.

As he slowly opened his eyes, his senses rushed back to him. He felt tired but warm. He was laying down, sheets spread over him, some medical gear linked to him. And a familiar presence. His father was sitting next to him, having dozed off for a moment, clearly tired. He had missed his own suicide. Couldn't even do that right. Another proof of his inferiority. And he had dragged his family into this. Kevan seemed to have heard him moving as he left his slumber. His eyes opened wide when he realized his son was staring at him. He couldn't hold back a bright smile and immediately embraced him, much to Lancel's shock. His father had never been the demonstrative type, though he had never doubted he loved them all with his entire being. He was hugging him tight, almost scared to lose him again. Lancel felt a wave of guilt invading him. He hesitated in hugging him back, like his heart urged him to.

"Welcome back, son." Kevan managed to say after a while, trying to smile

Lancel wanted to believe that he was wanted all over again.

 _XXXXX_

Kevan had told him they needed to talk, but he wanted to let him rest and to the family to see him first. Janei had come first. She wasn't teary eyed. She was red with anger when she saw him.

"You were going to be in a box next to Willem! I told you, you can't breathe under the ground!" She pouted

Lancel didn't know if he had to laugh. Janei was just so adorable! Then he realized she would have asked around, like she did with Willem, where he was. What Death actually meant. He hadn't thought of that when he had planned to go. And when she hugged him, not wanting to let go, he understood she was feeling abandoned again by a sibling.

Dorna had hugged him immediately, teary-eyed but not sobbing. She sat on his bed, smiling through her shiny eyes, putting one hand on his back, the other on his heart, gently soothing him like she always did when he was sick and she simply said:

"It's going to be alright. It's going to be alright, Lancel. It will."

He wondered about the source of her dignity, of her strength.

Then, it was Martyn's turn. Lancel suddenly heard a sharp sound and felt his cheek burning. His little brother had just slapped him.

"How on Earth could you think that I'd be better off without you?! That we'd be better off without you?! That your death would mean Mom and Dad could care for me more like, I quote you, I deserve?! What made you think I would be fine with you dead?! I've lost a brother already! I don't want to lose another one!" He exploded

He had left him, too angered to look at him, afraid to say things he'd regret. He was angry at himself. Lancel felt that way because no one had understood him, while he had understood them all, he had understood all too well. While being so unwell, Lancel had heped him during his self confidence issues, with his lady problems. He had helped Janei just like he used to. He had volunteered to care for Willem's grave when their mother couldn't even bear to drive near the place. What had he do for him? Nothing. Because he had believed Lancel when he told him he was fine. He hadn't killed Lancel, but he hadn't do much to save him either. Lancel had claimed he deserved a better older brother. That was so ironic. Lancel deserved better from him, not the other way around.

Failure had a bitter taste in his mouth.

 _XXXXX_

"What are you doing here?"

Kevan had looked to Tywin, surprised, as he came in for work. His older brother was looking at him, his face unreadable.

"Go to your son. Rest."

Coming from him, it translated to:

"I'm so sorry for Lancel. Don't worry about me. Go."

It meant the world to Kevan.

 _XXXXX_

Kevan had let Lancel sleep and checked on him in the early afternoon. His son's face had more colours already, which he hoped was a good sign. According to the doctors, Lancel was easy to live and to work with. He didn't refuse medicine or food, he let them do their work.

"I've read your letter." He started

Lancel only stared at the wall facing him. Kevan paid no mind.

"I know we never talked about it. Your mother and I... It was just so obvious for us, but we were wrong. You needed to hear that from us. You needed to hear it loud and often."

Still no reaction.

"What happened to Willem was an accident."

Lancel looked away. His father grabbed his hand.

"It was an accident, Lancel. You never meant what happened. The investigations proved it. You weren't driving over the limit, you were obeying the rules."

His grab got stronger.

"You didn't murder your brother Lancel. You didn't kill Willem. Your mother and I never thought you did. Martyn never thought you did. Janei never thought you did. No one in their right mind thought you did."

Lancel suddenly faced him, his words had made something in him spark and forgetting he couldn't speak, he tried to state the contrary. No sound came from his throat, much to his frustration.

"You didn't, Lancel." Kevan repeated calmly. "You feel like you did. I can only try and imagine it to be able to understand how you could possibly feel. But you didn't murder Willem. I don't care how many times I have to repeat that, as long as it goes out of your head."

After a pause, he painfully added:

"We neglected you. You needed us and we weren't here for you. We're sorry. You are our baby too. We'll care for you too."

Kevan's small but warm smile made Lancel feel a bit safer in his hospital room.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 10****

It sounded ungrateful he knew. But Lancel loathed being visited at the hospital by the family. He hated that because he was seen in a state he didn't want to be seen in. And most of the family members came out of duty. To make themselves feel better. We didn't know he was so unwell, yes we saw him, he looked better, we'll be there for him now. He could hear them and the hypocrisy had a bitter taste in his mouth. Joffrey came. Lancel knew it was only so he could gloat about being the bigger person, to show he was so much better but inside, it was to have a good laugh at him. Most of his family came just because it was expected of them by society, not because they genuinely cared. The nurses didn't understand when he wrote he didn't want to see anybody and they assumed it was just his depression speaking. Even mute, his words didn't matter and were left deaf.

"Talk about making me feel important and visible..."

Tommen and Myrcella had come, Myrcella clearly upset.

"I'm so sorry... I haven't seen anything... I should have been there for you..."

You already were, he had written to her. More than most. Tyrek had come back to him. They had argued before he went to live with his mother's family, following his father's death. They hadn't spoken much. But Lancel knew they were friends again. He spent his days quietly, watching the landscape change through time. He was offered to draw, to create things. He cast it aside. He didn't feel like it.

"He doesn't make any effort." He heard a nurse say

He didn't even bother curing her in his head. Most people wouldn't understand, he had gotten it by now.

"Lancel?" He heard a faint voice calling him

He turned his head, seeing his new visitor. And when he saw who it was, when he saw her state, he felt an ache in himself, a twist in his guts. Amerei was standing there, clearly tired as she had just gotten back from her trip, pale, her eyes watery. In her hand, the letter he had left for her, maybe the hardest he had to write for some reason. She ran to him and embrace him so tight it was hard to breathe. He had been so surprised he had only managed to open his arms so she wouldn't hurt herself. After some hesitation, he hugged her back. He didn't notice his father coming back, his eyes and expression at the sight of him, a woman in his arms, nor did he see the small smirk he had as he left, thinking it'dbe a good idea to have another coffee, from the vending machine that was at the opposite wing. Amerei didn't say a word. She just remained in his arms, sobbing quietly, holding on to him, afraid to let him slip away as if he'd vanish if the contact was broken. He felt an incredible guilt building in him. He had felt it with his immediate family, so why was it stronger with Amerei? He felt so awkward, not knowing how to act, apart from holding her. After a while, she calmed down and despite her tears, she smiled at him warmly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you've had your share already. No more tears from me, I promise." She swore

"I don't mind." He wrote

She started to speak, telling him about the field trip they had, the laughs, anything but what he had tried to do. He was grateful. And Amerei was clever enough to understand. She actually was the only one to understand him almost fully, even his own father didn't manage. She showed him the pictures, offered him the keychain she had brought back for him, she asked if he liked the food from the clinic, if the nurses were hot young chicks or complete MILF. Or handsome dudes, she didn't know the way he prefered. She noticed the drawing gear he had been given. She asked about his skills, he showed her his talent with a quick doodle she adored and insisted on keeping, autographed, much to his amusement.

"Say, if I pay you or offer you something, would you mind doing a commission for me?"

"For you, it's free."

He showed her some tricks for drawing cartoonish characters, like the Simpson family members. She was sitting on is bed, near him, he could feel her warmth, it was soothing. He actually felt home, with a friend visiting, just chilling away. Until he noticed the ecchymoses she had on her arms. Old ones, new ones, painfully looking ones. He had stared enough for her to notice his gaze upon it.

"I told you, I'm just really, really clumsy!"

He just looked at her and she could see, in his emerald eyes, some kind of sadness. He wanted to believe her, he couldn't and he wanted to help, but he felt powerless. She sighed. It was only fair, she thought. How could she be mad at him for hiding his depression and thoughts to her while she wouldn't open up to him?

"Lancel, I... I'm sorry. I haven't been entirely honest with you. Not for lack of trust. Because I do trust you. It was out of fear. I know you wouldn't spill my secrets one way or another but walls have ears... I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm not clumsy. I..."

Her eyes were looking away, she was struggling with her words.

"Are you beaten by your parents?" He wrote, his hand unassured

"Not by them, but close enough."

His eyes widened, shocked and he was about to write when she begged, with a fear in her voice that broke his heart:

"Please, don't make me say more..."

He just grabbed her hand and nodded. She made him promise he wouldn't spill the beans, he did. Not that he could speak anyway. He resumed drawing for her, feeling her easing herself as she watched.

Kevan could only smile as he returned, seeing them so close, seeing Lancel at ease, in peace, actually smiling, looking like the young man he used to be, for the first time since Willem had passed away. He discreetly took a picture. He knew his son would immediately want to draw that once his eyes would be set upon it.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 11****

Sitting near his window, the rays of the sun hitting his canvas, Lancel was feeling the sweet bliss of being in another world. Having been allowed to have his mp3 player after he inquired if it wouldn't bother other patients or their gears, he had his headphone set up, his favourite playlist blasting quietly, making his surroundings transfrom from the dull hospital room into another realm. One where it was just him. No death, no Willem in a grave, just him, the music that acted as this universe's generator, and his focus on a task ahead. The nurses had been more than happy to see him set up with painting easel, starting to work on Amerei's order. It had surprised him to be fair. A family portrait, she asked. But the said portrait only had her and her two little sisters. Little Walder was nowhere to be seen and her parents were simply gone. He knew her family life wasn't all smiles and happiness, still it surprised him. He asked no questions though. She asked if he could make a portrait of their sisterhood, he was more than happy to obliged, especially when she made an effort to visit everyday, when Walda and Marissa came as often as they could too, despite their upcoming exams. He remembered when Amerei jokingly teased him, telling him to draw her like one of his french girls. He had wanted to laugh so much, to let his voice out, to convey his feelings, yet apart from his body shaking a bit because of the joke, he felt no sound would come out. He was starting to loathe his muteness. He couldn't even tell his parents he was sorry. He couldn't even apologize to Martyn and Janei. He had written it, yet he felt it would have meant much more if he had actually spoken the words. Right now, as he was working on his background, he couldn't even hum the tune of his favourite song, along with the singer, like he used to when he worked on a project, despite his desire to do so.

"Maybe I could teach Amerei how to draw. She seems interested in it. And if it can take her mind off her problems for a few hours..." He thought

A soft knock starttled him, he thanked the Gods his brush wasn't on the fabric. He turned his face to face his vistor and his lips formed a bright smile as he saw his aunt Genna. He took away his headphone.

"And here's my favorite artist! Look at you, Lancel! You're glowing! Kevan was right, you really are back on track!" She said as she entered and gave him two big kisses on both cheeks

She sat on the chair nearby.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't come before, dear. I wanted to but some issues kept me away. You'll get it when you have kids one day. I love my boys but sometimes, they need to forget I exist, they're old enough to wipe their own arses. Not meaning that for you, Honey. Of course not. You're a different case. I told my oldest lads, hey you complain about all of your pitiful dramas, this chick who didn't say thank you when you handed her something, and your baby cousin, who had it harder than you, between a sibling he loved dead, another one crippled and him being sick with several illnesses, he didn't even complain one time to his mom and dad and wipped his ass alone like a big boy. But in your case, dear, everyone would have understood you asking Mom and Dad for help with those diapers. At least, the ones with a brain. You see my point?"

He nodded. Truth be told, Lancel adored his aunt Genna and she was easily his favourite aunt. Oh, he liked his Swyft aunt well enough, but Genna was just someone so charismatic, so witty, so energetic he couldn't help but feeling drawn to her. And she had always been there for him, for her brothers, for those she fiercely cared about.

"I'm glad to see you so well, doing better." She softly said, almost in a motherly tone. " Truth be told, when I learnt the new, I had the sad thought it wasn't surprising. It should have been though. It made me so angry, hearing those who didn't give two shits suddenly remembering you even existed while you had been on the verge of being gone. What kind of family is this, huh? Anyway, I'm rambling, sorry, dear. Do you eat well enough here? You're just bones! Well, at least, your eyes are sparkling again, like they used to. So, what are you working on?"

He smiled. Genna always loved to talk. He moved over so she could see his work in progress.

"You do have talent, you know that?"

"I just followed books." He wrote

"Don't be so modest! Everyone can have a base, few can actually work with it to the point the base can't be seen, making their work look so easy while it's a nightmare to realize. You always had an artistic side. As soon as you were old enough to play with music or with a pencil, you just started and created your own little bubble. You can go far on that road."

She observed the painting.

"I didn't know you and Amerei were close."

" We're friends."

Lancel tried his hardest not to add she was actually his best friend. Sunddenly, an epiphany came in his mind. Genna was actually related to Amerei! Amerei's father, Merrett Frey, was a half-brother to Emmon Frey, Genna's husband. Thus, Genna was an aunt by marriage to Amerei. Amerei's words were still on his mind and those bruises... He didn't dare think she had more covered up by her clothes, but a part of him knew it was the case. He had to get her out of this nightmare. He felt bad, breaking up his promise, but in a way, he promised not to speak, nothing was mentioned for writing.

"Now, that's quite a frown, what's wrong?"

"I fear Amerei might have problems."

And so he wrote. He wrote everything. All he could remember, the details, his worries. Genna looked at him, with a seriousness only matched by his own father.

"This is a serious thing, Lancel."

"I doubt Ami is physically capable of bruising herself with her fingers in the fold of her elbow."

"How can I resist those eyes? Fine. I'll look into it, if it eases you."

He beamed.

"You're quite something you know? Worrying for someone's safety when you tried to end your life not long ago. You must like her very much."

She carefully put his papers in her bag and changed the subject with her usual cheerful persona, admiring again the portrait he was painting, commenting on the colours, suggesting ideas he admitted were good.

When Kevan entered to visit his son, he couldn't help but having a small smirk as his little sister was sitting next to his baby boy, both clearly enjoying and sharing around a bunch of acrlic paints.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 12****

It hurt. That was all Amerei could ever think of everytime she was with her cousin. It hurt. It hurt that no one believed her when she said he was violent. It hurt when it was brushed aside because of her sexual past, the one that had been put on her shoulders while she had never done it. Yes, Gatehouse Ami was no virgin but she had never had a foursome with her and three men to please and to receive pleasure from. That had been a lie launched by her abuser to keep her secluded. It hurt whenever he touched her. It hurt she couldn't speak because one time she tried and her friend was found with a broken arm the day after. It hurt to live in a world where a woman was either a mom or a whore, like Baudelaire had once said. A woman proud of her sexuality frightened people and she was paying the price of her confidence. Something she didn't have anymore. Her parents knew. They gave him their blessing. She was a whore. If it tamed her, fine. Just be careful not to father a bastard, we don't want to waste money on an abortion, they said. She had tried to fight. She had paid the price and understood that the best way to go was to play dead. It made him end quicker. Though, despite how often he did it, it still hurt and sometimes, tears would fall. Sadly, all it did was arouse him more. That day, without knowing why, she found herself thinking of Lancel. She found herself praying for him to come, to save her. How selfish, she thought. Lancel was at the hospital, resting, because his mind was exhausted by the constant war it fought ever since his brother died. She couldn't ask him to get involved, it would end badly for him and she didn't want to lose him. He had become too dear, too close, too important for her.

"Seriously, you ay be my half-brother's wife but what gives you the right..." She heard faintly

"Now now, focus on me. You are so dry, you ungrateful whore!" Her cousin spat as he twisted her nipple painfully

Something in her screamed. That could be her chance for salvation. And if not, what else did she have to lose? She let a scream of pain escpae her lips, only to be beaten more by him.

"Out of the way, weasel!" The voice roared

What Genna saw as she entered made her blood ran cold. Her baby nephew had been right all along. Amerei was almost naked, forced on the floor, her cousin raping her in a way that would never result in having children. She saw her bruises, her tears, and to her horror, there was blood of her rapist's manhood, blood coming from her anus due to the unwanted intrusion. She saw the old wounds, the new ones. How long had this been going on? A teenager was raped by a relative under her own roof, with possibly the blessings of her parents. Just because she had been caught once having sex with her boyfriend and that it appeared she had been an early adept of that made her want to retch. She reached for the gun she always carried in her bag, along with her blush, her lipstick and her purse.

"She wanted it." The young man tried to explain

"Yes, and I'm the queen of the seven kingdoms! Back off! And you two! One move and I shoot!"

She went near Amerei, took off her coat and covered her with it.

"Ami, honey, be a dear and call your sisters. Pack your bags. It's time you know what a true home feels like."

 _XXXXX_

It was Kevan who broke the new to Lancel. He could see his son having mixed feelings. Lancel was happy Amerei was finally safe, out of her own nightmare, under Genna's protective wing. He felt a pinch of pride knowing he helped in that. However, what he felt the most was horror. Amerei had been an abused child, a slut shamed teenager and a rape victim. All of that with the blessing of her parents and of her brother. Her sisters stood by her, only to be mistreated as well. Marissa had been humiliated and Walda starved, after all, her fat kept her warm apparently. He could have never imagined that, even in his wildest nightmares. Amerei was having it as bad as he was and still, she had been strong, she had helped him. Somehow, he was also surprised by another feeling of his:

Anger.

He wanted to see that man, to rip him apart, to make him suffer like Amerei had suffered, he wanted to hear him beg for his mom, for forgiveness, he wanted to smell his blood on his hand, the life choking out of him.

"Is it punishable by the law if you murder someone in your mind or in your art?"

Kevan only laughed.

If Lancel's sense of humour was coming back, that was a good sign.

 _XXXXX_

Facing his room, Amerei didn't know if she had to feel grateful or betrayed.

Grateful, she was.

It was Lancel opening up to his aunt that allowed her and her sisters to have this dream life. Living with Genna was a blast. Her husband was rarely around due to his work, the younger sons she had were nice enough and Genna so full of life! She understood them all. She understood her lust. She understood Marissa's shyness. She understood Walda's love of food. All of that was natural, part of life. They were young and modern women who didn't need anyone's approval.

Yet, despite this, Amerei kinda felt betrayed. Lancel had promised to hold his tongue, to not spill the beans. However, she couldn't say he broke his promise. Genna had never heard a sound coming from his mouth. And in a way, he made her wish come true. While she was mentally begging for him to save her, he did. He did save her life.

So, in the end, her feeling of betrayal didn't matter.

She knocked before she entered. Lancel was laying in his bed, clearly unwell, due to the new medicine the doctors wanted him to take. However, when he saw her, he had a bright smile and if he was tired and pale, he looked young and alive.

"Wanted to see how you were. And though I assume you know already, I live with Genna now. Thanks to you. You saved my life."

He granted her some space, so she could sit on the bed with him. He pointed over his easel, covered with a worn out sheet.

"May I?"

He nodded. She took it out and had a gasp of joy. The portrait was finished and it was beautiful. It made her feel warm inside. It made her forget she had parents. It made her feel her only family was her sisters.

"Oh Lancel, this is perfect! Thank you so much."

He only smiled. When Genna entered the room, she found them drawing together. More accurately, Amerei was drawing, Lancel teaching her some tricks. Her brothe arriving, she whispered:

"Save some money, I think you found your future daughter-in-law and the mother of your grandbabies."

 ** **To Be Continued****


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 13****

While happy to leave the hospital, Lancel was afraid of going home. The last time he was home, he had swallowed all the pills he had in his room, hoping to fall asleep and never wake up. He thought of his mother, cleaning it while he was away, of the feelings she could have had while doing so. How could he have allowed himself to hurt her that way?

"I didn't...It wasn't me, it was the illness speaking. I didn't hurt Mom. I didn't kill Willem."

The words still felt so wrong to him but he kept thinking them, hoping one day he'd have a genuine feel about them. The saying went "Fake it until you make it" after all. And his father would be pretty upset to see no changes in him. Lancel was of age but his father's wrath was something he didn't want to unleash. His dad... His dad who came everyday despite his work. Stating it was normal he was here. Lancel found it almost poetic. He was here when he came to the world. He was here when he was driven home for the first time. He was here when he took him from home to save his life. And now, he was here to pick him home after he had been resurected. He was born twice and his father had been there twice. He kept that thought to himself though.

"Ready to go?" His father asked

Lancel nodded.

It was highly time.

 _XXXXX_

"Are you sure I can be here? I mean, this is a family moment." Amerei asked

Dorna smiled at her as she was preparing dinner.

"Of course you can! You are my sister-in-law's protegée! And Lancel's friend! You really made a difference in his life."

"Oh man, does this smell good!" Walda said

Dorna beamed. Sitted near the kitchen, Amerei felt out of place. Of course, she was grateful and happy to have been invited to the little surprise Lancel's family was holding for him to celebrate his return. A simple dinner between him, his immediate family. And there she was, along with her sisters, because she had been there for Lancel. It felt weird, being in a place that felt like a home, with siblings getting along, parents who loved them, who loved each other still despite the years. Martyn's girlfriend was here, but it was natural, she was almost an in-law. But her? Apart from the broken bird Lancel's aunt took under her wing, she wasn't part of the Lannister family. Yet, she had been allowed to take part, welcomed with open arms. It was unsettling.

"May I help, Mrs Lannister?" Walda gently offered

"Sure, come over here and tell me how the sauce tastes!"

Even Marissa was glowing with happiness, like a plant who had been replanted into a better soil. Was that what a normal family looked like? Acted like?

"Let it drop. Just enjoy. You'll see Lancel out of the hospital before everyone else in school. If he goes back to school. Summer's almost here after all and with his results, he will pass, no worries about it." She thought

Martyn watched as Mary was sitting on the floor, playing with Janei and her dollhouse. Though she didn't say it, Dorna was grateful, because Janei was occupied and she could focus on the rest of the planning. She adored her child but sometimes, a four years old and planning didn't match a lot. Looking at her so radiant, so at ease with a young child, Martyn couldn't help thinking of what a great mother to their children she would make. Before he froze. He couldn't have children, he knew. He couldn't even get hard. What a joke. Mary's words came in his mind. They could always adopt. She was right. Family wasn't always about blood. So yes, Mary was going to be the best mother ever, after his own. On that regard, Dorna was a queen.

"Oh, I think they're about to arrive." The matriarch said

Soon enough, keys were heard in the lock and the two men entered the house. Lancel hadn't spotted them but Amerei could see him from afar. He looked genuinely tired and she wondered if he had lost weight. She felt that ache again, that need to have him better, to have him smile, to have him... Healed. She didn't know why. Father and son walked through the corridor, only for Lancel to be greated by loving and familiar faces screaming "Surprise" as he discovered them. After his initial shock, he had a genuine, warm and happy smile. He greeted everyone, hugged back Janei who ran to him, shouting "Lany", embraced his mother and when he arrived to Amerei, she embraced him immediately. He didn't hesitate in hugging her back this time.

"Looks like Lancel found his lady love." Martyn joked

Lancel blushed at the idea, making them laugh.

It was good to be home.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 14****

Lancel found himself staring at the family phone in his hand, a taste of frustration in his mouth. For a moment, he had forgotten he couldn't speak and it was only when he was about to compose the number than he bitterly realized he wouldn't be able to speak back. He felt some rage building inside of him. Why was his muteness still alive? He wanted to speak. He had so many things to say! He yearned to speak again. Why was he still blocked? From the corner of his eyes, his father had spotted him and had told him, with the hint of a smile that textos had an advantage, you were certain it would reach the person you sought.

"Aunt Genna doesn't have a cellphone." Lancel wrote

That was one suprising thing about his sister, Kevan knew. Genna lived with her time, she had always loved new technologies, she knew Facebook better than Willem ever had and yet, for some odd reason, she had never been able to understand how to use a cellphone.

"Amerei has one, I assume." He replied to his son

Lancel smiled.

A few hours later, Dorna received a call from her sister-in-law, announcing she had bought a cellphone, it was a pain in the ass but she prefered being butt-hurt rather than having her baby nephew unable to communicate directly with her.

Kevan had laughed.

 _XXXXX_

Lancel hadn't returned to school. His parents thought it was too soon for him and it wouldn't be of any use anyway. They knew Lancel would have the honours with his grades and the school year was almost over. If he could be spare some unecessary pain, they were willing to take it. To be fair, Lancel himself didn't feel like going back. He knew Amerei wouldn't be there and school without her, well, it would have been the Seven Hells all over again. His parents didn't even speak of college for him yet. They simply wanted him to be better. University, it could wait. His health, no. Deep down, Lancel felt happy to see his parents so concerned for him. He knew he was loved dearly, that he always mattered, but after feeling so alone, feeling so loved was warm, sometimes even overwhelming.

"Do you mind if I see Amerei often?" He had written

"Why would I be against you going out after months of being inside?" His father had replied

When Lancel texted Genna to ask if it was okay with her, her response made him laugh internally.

 _My home's your home, Pumpkin. You know the way, you know the place, I only need to tell you where the condoms are, in case you two hook up._

He had the perfect excuse: To teach Amerei how to draw and how to paint.

 _XXXXX_

Lancel sitting by her side, Amerei took time to study him. His cheeks had regained colours and shapes. His eyes were more alive and no longer accompanied by dark circles. While she knew he was still under some treatments, he had regained some weight but more importantly, he was always smiling. He looked peaceful. She didn't know what was inside of his brain. Was he still blaming himself and aching? Possibly. The loss had been so hard and horrible. But he was smiling softly, drowned in his lessons, and she had to say, he looked like an eighteen years old again. It was a lovely and heartwarming sight. She thought back on how they got so close, how they became so important to one another. Was it because they were both alone, aching, believing no one could help them? She didn't know. The french said that who looked alike or seemed alike hooked up. They also said that opposites attracted one another. They were a mix of both, she realized. They had hooked up because they shared a pain. They were stil hooking up because they were so different. Before all this mess, when Willem was still alive, she remembered herself finding him cute and wanting to have him in her bed. Now, the mere idea of bedding someone made her ill and men kinda scared her. Lancel was the only one who didn't cause a fear in her guts when she saw him. He would never hurt her, she knew. He respected her. He saved her. She could remember his red cheeks when he had seen her in her underwear. It had been an accident, he had arrived early, Genna didn't know she was dressing up, so she let him go to her. He had been unable to look at her for hours, and he had apologized multiple times. No crude jokes. No hints. Just a man sorry he entered her privacy and saw something he wasn't supposed to see. It amazed her, how they seemed to understand each other completely, even with his muteness. They didn't need words. They just needed each other. She came to realize how dependant she had grown, but also a truth she had hidden, to protect herself during her personal hell. She had feelings for Lancel. She was in love with Lancel. Her ache to see him better, happy and how she had wishd for him several times when she was down... She had never given up and she had been rewarded by his friendship. He too seemed attracted by her but it didn't mean anything. He was alone and she had been the first to offer a hand.

"You're doing good." He wrote as she was slowly advancing on her project

She smiled at him, he smiled back. They were so close she could feel his warmth, it was soothing. It came out of nowhere. It had been quick, chaste, and when they had realized what had happened, they hd been stunned. She had been even more surprised when he happily sought her lips again, making her giggle.

Kevan received a message later that day, from his little sister, with a picture. His son kissing a woman.

 _For my pumpkin to print and paint. PS: Told you she was going to be your daughter-in-law!_

He didn't know if he had to feel uneasy seeing something from his son's intimate life or if he had to laugh at his sister's joke.

 _PPS: They remained well behaved children, no grandbabies on the road._

 _Too much information, Genna._

However, he couldn't help smiling.

If Lancel was allowing himself to love, it meant he allowed himself to live. Dorna and him would have to celebrate that.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 15****

"Willem would be happy."

That was what Lancel's mind kept telling him each time he was with Amerei, enjoying their relationship. It stillfelt weird, hearing people call them a couple. In a way, he wished he could have said it. His voice still hadn't returned and beyond the frustration he felt, there was fear. Why wasn't he speaking again? Everything was so much better! Why was his voice still locked away? He wondered if his vocal cords had been damaged by his long silence, if he had condemned himself to muteness. There was now so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Amerei he loved her. She knew it but hearing it was different than knowing it. She needed to hear it. To know she was chosen. Just like he had needed his parents' words, Amerei needed his to heal and he couldn't eve provide her with that. He was just pitiful.

"Maybe your voice is like periods."

Amerei's statement came out of nowhere and starttled him. Her eyes still on her game, the both of them sitting on her bed, she continued.

"Periods can come late in moments of stress. You are stressed because you can't speak. It's a vicious circle. By the way, if they need a pad..."

He chuckled. However, she spotted a hint of sadness in him. She paused the game and softly locked his lips in a kiss, her hand caressing his cheek.

"I mean it are hurting yourself. Of course I'd love to hear your voice again but if I don't, it's not a big deal. You can be understood in so many other ways."

He had a small smile as she kissed him again. Under her touch, his worries just melted away. He gently pulled her closer as she deepened their kiss. It was just the two of them, enjoying each other. Time froze. All they cared about was them, making the other feel good. Until he froze, realizing what they were doing. Amerei was on her back and while they had only kissed, her shoulder was bare. She too seemed frozen in shock, her cheeks red. She didn't know what made him stop but she was thankful. She felt it was too soon. And what scared her was how natural it had felt, how right. Her body and her mind had allowed him to make love to her. He too seemed surprised, she noted.

"He respects you enough to know he had to stop."

Regaining her breath, she managed to smile.

"I'm sorry..." He wrote

"Well, now I know you don't need to speak to show me you love me. But... Do you mind if we wait?"

He simply hugged her before they resumed playing. The scene remained in their minds and much to Lancel's shame, it would feed his night fantasies as well. That night, she haunted him and to his disgust afterwards, to sleep, he had been forced to take care of it.

 _XXXXX_

Lancel's cheeks were red as he thought back on that time. Red of shame as it also woke some desires in him as well. He wondered if Amerei was in the same case but didn't dare to ask. He tried to put his thoughts aside as he unlocked the door with his key. It felt good to be home. Lancel was enjoying his house even more. It had been a hard week, as Kevan and Dorna felt Willem's room needed to be cleaned up. It had been left untouched since his passing. Lancel had volunteered and did everything alone. The room still had his furnitures, his books. But the windows had been opened, cleaned, the shelves dusted and reorganized. Just like he had promised his brother before he left them. And that day, Lancel had taken the car to the junkyard to throw away old things. It had been the first time he drove since the accident. He insisted on going alone. He had felt the ghost of Willem all along. Lancel was glad it was over.

"Hello Lancel." His father said as he entered

Lancel smiled. His father had waited ofr his return, in the living room, a cup of tea near him. He wasn't alone. He had never been alone. The thought was heartwarming. Coming out of nowhere, leaving a stunned silence afterwards, two small words were heard, from a raspy and rough voice, but a voice Kevan instantly recognizes.

"Hi Dad."

 ** **To Be Continued****


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 16****

It took Lancel a while to realize that this raspy voice actually came from his throat. It was only seeing his family and their astonished faces that made him understand that it was indeed him who greeted his father. Unconsciously, he touched his throat, amazed himself and relieved, a smile coming to his lips as he tried to speak again. It hurt a bit, but he didn't care. He could speak again. He could talk with his family again. He could finally tell Amerei how much he loved her. His father rushed to his side though.

"Now, now, don't force on it."

Lancel nodded and together, they immediately went to see a doctor, to know how to proceed now that his voice had finallay come back. As he was driving, Kevan kept an eye on his son. Dad. Lancel's first word ever since their tragedy was for him. Just like he had been his first word when he had started to speak, so many years ago, when he was still a baby following him around, looking at him like he was the greatest hero on Earth with his expressive emerald eyes. Lancel was speaking again and his first word had been for him. It was only because of the context, he thought. It could have been Martyn, Janei or Dorna. His voice had been unlocked already. Yet Life had decided he would be his first word all over again. What caused his voice to return, they'd never know, he assumed. However, it didn't matter. What mattered was that his son would be able to properly communicate again.

He had missed that sound for so long.

 _XXXXX_

"By the Seven Gods! My little pumpkin! You're speaking again!"

Genna's voice was squeaky of emotion and excitement. Lancel could hear how delighted she was, how genuine she was and it made him smile.

"We have to celebrate this."

When he declined, Genna brushed it off.

"Not a big deal?! This is a big deal! You have been silent for almost a year! This is a great step for you and it's a cause of celebration! Your parents will agree. And no, it won't be a bother to us and fuck those who will try and say otherwise. Fuck them to death, my pumpkin speaks again after almost a year of muteness, after having beaten suicidal thoughts and after almost defeating depression. Let me pass you Ami!"

Soon enough, Lancel heard Amerei's voice.

"Hello?"

"Hello Ami."

It took a few seconds for Amerei to realize that the voice she heard was Lancel's.

"Lancel! You... You're speaking again!"

"Not much... The doctors say I can't force on it too much. Just practice it."

He wondered if she was scared. His voice sounded so off and broken! Amerei was actually smiling and he could feel it through the phone, still he thought maybe she was just being encouraging.

"I missed your voice. How beautiful it sounded. And soon enough, it will be even greater. I won't keep you for too long, if it needs rest."

"Ami... Before you hang up..."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

It felt utterly good to say it. Of course, he had written it so often, but actually saying it to the woman he loved felt even better. It felt like a spell, something magical. In his moments of doubts, of anxiety, he had wondered how they would have lived together with that handicap. Unable to say "I do" when married. Unable to speak to his children, to teach them how to talk, to encourage them. If the school would phone and him, able to pick up, unable to reply. Or if Ami and him and an accident, alone, and him able to phone, unable to explain. In the dead of the night, it kept him awake, causing sometimes some panick attacks.

"Je t'aime aussi."

He laughed.

"Tish, that's french!" He replied

"Oui."

He promised himself that they would participate in the next Halloween, dressed as Morticia and Gomez, accompanying Janei as their little Wednesday. Behind Amerei, he could hear Genna already making preparation, and stating Cersei and Joffrey wouldn't be invited, they had pissed on her sweetie for too long. Lancel assumed there wouldn't be a lot of people to that party then, if those who had dished him would be kept away. It didn't matter. Those who cared would be there.

Those who loved him would be with him.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 17****

It had been a year already. Time really was a strange thing, Lancel thought, as he looked at Willem's grave. It really was. The year had felt so short, between Martyn learning to live again under a new condition and his own issues. It felt like yesterday, the day their car had been crashed by another. Yet, it had also felt so painfully long during the peaks of his mental despair. He discreetly had a look at his mother. It was her first time visiting Willem. She had felt unable to before and Lancel couldn't blame her. How could anyone ask a mother to remember even more that her baby was decaying under the ground? Kevan was holding her hand as she was getting up on her feet after re-arranging the flowers.

"Look, Lany! Willem transformed into a tree!" Janei exclaimed

With her finger, she was pointing to a small tree, that was growing near Willem's grave. She had sounded so innocent, so cheerful, so happy that he burst out of laughter, a shaky but warm one.

"You're right, he did." Their mother replied with a sad smile.

How did that tree get there, they didn't know. Again, this was one of Life's wonders. A sun sat today, another would raise tomorrow and what was blossoming today would decay the following day. An endless waltz and fragile balance between Life and Death. Or was it the Seven's way to tell them he was okay in the afterlife? He didn't know. All he knew was that he missed his little brother more than ever, that he'd never see him again and while Janei had made him laugh, the pain was still lingering. While he knew he wasn't responsible for his death, at night, when unable to sleep, his mind created thousands of what if scenarios, trying to save him from his fate, leaving a bitter taste in the morning.

That afternoon, after coming back from the graveyard, visiting Amerei's at Genna's place, once alone with her, for the first time ever since it all happened, most to his surprise, he cried. He didn't know how, or why, he just did. As if his voice coming back had unlocked his tears' cage and the sight of the harsh truth had been the knock on its door. She hugged him immediately. She made him sit by her and continued holding him, her warmth craddling him as he let his pain escape his body. He cried for his brother, he cried because it was so unfair he had to leave them in such a way, it was unfair Willem had died when he had still so much he wanted to do. It was unfair to take him away when he had done nothing to deserve to die. He cried out of pain, of loss, of powerlessness.

"I made something for you. Though it won't be as good as what you can do." She said after he calmed down

She took from her drawer a painting he discovered. A large family portrait. Martyn and Willem were on the left side, looking at their father. Willem was smiling and she had managed to capture the warmth of his smile. His parents were in the middle, Janei in their mother's arms. Their father was looking at Janei with an undying fondness. Dorna as well, though she seemed to share something with the painted version of himself, on the right. He was smiling proudly at his sister, who was looking at him, her thumb in her mouth, looking back at him with her big, sparkling, innocent and expressive eyes. When Amerei saw his traits softening and his lips forming a small smile, when she saw his entire being just being relaxed, in peace, she knew her art had been a hit.

"It's perfect."

She sat by his side again and she let him hold her close as they studied the painting once more.

 _XXXXX_

"Lancel, I'm not sure about it..."

Amerei had called Lancel, an idea in mind to lift their spirits up after that special day: a day at the beach, between young adults and teenagers. Lancel had adored the idea, much to her surprise.

"It will be an excuse for me to take pictures of you or to draw you in your swimsuit."

"Lancel, if you wanted to jerk off to me, you could have asked me for nudes, you know."

"I like to think I am a bit more refined."

"Okay, draw me like one of your french girls and enjoy the show!"

Lancel's laughter had been heard in the entire house, something that made his parents smile. However, when Martyn learnt he was invited, he wasn't sure to go. Despite Amerei knowing a place where wheelchairs could access the sea easily. He was handicaped, he had accepted that, but he was still afraid of showing how much his body had changed. His legs were starting to lose their muscles out of inactivity.

"Ami swore she's break the faces of any guy insulting you. I volunteered to help. Mary is invited too. It will be just you, me , Tyrek, Mary, Marissa and Ami. And no one forces you to be in swim trunks."

His little brother sighed.

"How can I say no to your puppy eyes? Damn, you really taught Janei well with that!"

"I'm the older brother, that's what I do."

As Lancel grinned, Martyn realized just how much he had missed the man Lancel used to be and was being again.

If a beach trip would help him remaining that way, then he'd proudly expose his sickly sticks.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 18****

"Don't tell me you're having cold feet." Martyn sighed as Lancel seemed rather indecisive the day they had to go to the beach.

He was sitting on his bed, his gear ready, but his person, far from it. Especially considering he was wearing a long sleeved shirt despite the hot warmy day. Martyn drove to his side.

"Ami won't mind, you know. If Mary doesn't mind me, Ami won't mind you."

"You didn't choose to be that way. I..."

"Don't you dare say you fell into depression because you were weak."

The firmness of his voice and the seriousness of his face reminded Lancel so much of their father. His little brother was condemned to be always seated, however, right now, he looked like a giant, his aura making him gain years and inches.

"You didn't choose to suffer. Depression is an illness. You were crippled too. Besides, look on the bright side, we match. My sickly sticks and your thin arms."

The oldest laughed softly.

"And what does Doctor Martyn advise?"

"Love and french fries."

"With beer I hope."

"Of course! French fries without beer is like chocolate cake without chocolate. Take that thing off, you'll sweat so much you will be even thinner."

"Yes Dad."

"Good, son."

The brothers shared a laugh as Lancel obeyed him. It was silly, he knew. But while he knew Amerei loved him, tha she had felt his bones, she had never really seen how his body was, due to lack of appetite. What if it turned her off? What if she was disgusted by him?

"She saw you in a hospital for a failed suicide attempt. Not sure how I could even be more unattractive..."

 _XXXXX_

" Had we been alone, I would have jumped your bones, Lancel Lannister."

Despite the sand burning under his feet, Lancel could swear his cheeks burnt harder, especially when Amerei had said that aloud. Tyrek was laughing so hard he was starting to have aches in both his mouth and his stomach.

"Damn, I really need to find a woman like yours, Lany."

"Now, now, you wouldn't want that. Only Lancel came tame a woman like me."

Lancel managed to whisper a small "Thanks, I guess.", embarassed but deep down, it made him feel a bit better to know Amerei liked him the way he was. He already knew it and he felt silly to have needed a new proof of her affection and attraction.

"The perks of my illness." He thought

"I see you took your drawing gear." Amerei stated

"You asked me to draw you like one of my french girls." He replied

"You two really need to get a room." Tyrek joked

"And make my parents grandparents so soon? Not a wise plan."

The cousins shared a grin and Lancel sat in the shadows, setting his things.

" I can watch over it when you go swim." Martyn offered

He nodded. Amerei had been true to her words, the beach had really been easy for Martyn, and he wondered if she had something to do with it. Either way, he was glad his brother was able to be near them and not to have to watch them from afar. He looked away. Tyrek was trying to talk Marissa into swimming, and from what he could see, he was actually helping her in swimming better. He looked softer and Lancel wondered if something was going on between them. Amerei was the one who stole the show however. She and Mary were bringing over items and she was taking his breath away. She was wearing an orange strapless string bikini and she simply rocked it. The colour was flattering her complexion, her skin looked like it had been kissed with shimmers of gold, her strawberry blonde hair being waves of flames under the bright sun. She was sexy but not tacky. He realized only now how Nature had gifted her. Her long legs were shown to him entirely and with only a thin layer of fabric to cover them, he could only imagine how full and round her breasts were. He tried to focus his mind elsewhere before he found himself embarassed even more.

"Need any help with the sunblock?" May offered Martyn

He nodded and she started to help with the areas he couldn't reach, like the legs or his back. His eyes couldn't help but wander on her form. Her long black hair was down, falling in waves on her back. She had chosen a string bikini as well and he wondered if Amerei had encouraged her, afraid she'd be the only one or she'd be indecent. She was a modest girl, somewhat old-fashioned, but he liked that side of her, he had it too. The green she had chosen was flattering her pale skin and her eyes. As she was always covered, he had never really seen much of her body or of her curves but there were right under his nose. He felt a familiar stir in him before realizing with a mixture of embarassement and of relief that he was actually aroused physically. By the mere sight of her with a bikini and the touch of her hand.

"Need my hand somewhere else?" She whispered in a kinky voice he would have never imagined from her

"Only in my dreams, sadly, for today."

Amerei sat next to Lancel, her head resting on his shoulder. He drew her closer, embracing her, as they watched their loved ones enjoying their day.

This wasn't the Seven Heavens, but Lancel could swear this was the closest thing to it.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Chapter 19****

"Lancel, could you take me to the hospital, please?"

Martyn's question had been so sudden Lancel had almost choked on his cherry coke. He grew instantly worried. Were his legs hurt?

"Mary told me about something. I just need informations with the doctor that follows me." His brother explained, sorry to have caused his eldest worries

 _XXXXX_

 _Mary was sitting in the cafeteria, a hot cocoa by her side. She was extatic, her project about making people feel what it felt like to be handicapped had been a huge success and even the national TV channels had come to register the event._

" _Hey Mary!" Meera greeted her as she sat_

" _Hey Meera. Thank you again for all your help!"_

" _You're welcome! Say, your boyfriend is in a wheelchair, isn't he?"_

 _Mary nodded._

" _You know Bran, of course?"_

" _Yes, your brother's handicapped best friend."_

" _He now walks."_

 _Surprised, she met her gaze._

" _How?! I mean... After that climbing accident?"_

" _There is a new experimental surgery he accepted to go through. The risks are there, if it fails, it dooms you to be stuck in your chair. But it went perfectly for Bran. Martyn and him are about the same age and the same built, and they suffered from a similar trauma. I'm not saying he should undergo that surgery, but I felt I needed to let you know. If Bran can walk again, maybe Martyn can too and it would have been selfish of me to keep this to myself."_

" _You're an amazing person, Meera."_

 _XXXXX_

In the end, the entire family had accompanied Martyn, leaving him alone with the doctors, waiting patiently in the corridor. Once outside, back in the car, the teenager had announced his decision to give the surgery a try. He could feel his parents' worries, fearing he was deciding in the heat of excitement and agreed to wait an think back on it after a few days. He could understand, it could destroy his chances to walk again, it could even paralyze him even more, from the neck to the toes. Still, even a cold head didn't extinguish his will. He was offered a chance and he had to give it a try, even with the possible negative outcomes. His parents could only agree, facing his undying determination. The night before the surgery however, despite his bravado, he discreetly asked his brother if he could sleep with him, like they used to, like when they were children. Because deep down, he was scared too and he needed his big brother by his side, just to give him courage again.

That day, when Martyn entered into the surgery room, Lancel went for the first time in a year to the local sept, where he spent hours on his knees, in a silent prayer. He was scared to the core and the only thing that managed to soothe him was the silence of the religious building, surrounded by the Seven Gods, hearing his silent words. He had tried remaining at home but his head was buzzing with morbid ideas, about tragic outcomes. The Seven were craddling him with peacefulness, even if just for a few hours.

When he decided to go home, his knees sore, his father was waiting for him at the entrance, smiling.

Lancel's prayers had been answered.

The surgery was a success.

 ** **To Be Continued****


	20. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is D&D's property, after being GRRM's property. Or else, Lancel would be the happiest kid in Westeros, should it be mine.

Summary: Mending took time and healing took trust. The thing was, Lancel didn't love nor trusted himself.

Author's note: A huge thank you to Assassin Master Ezio 91 who helped in making the chapter guide and in brainstorming with me !

Author's note 2: English isn't my first language, it's french. If you see any mistake or issue with the language, feel free to tell me so that I can improve.

 ** **WARNING! THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS DEATH, BULLYING, DEPRESSION, ABUSE ETC. IF YOU ARE ILL-AT-EASE WITH THOSE SUBJECTS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CLICK ON THE RED CROSS ON THE RIGHT TOP OF THE SCREEN.****

 ** **Broken Things****

 ** **Epilogue****

Lancel hardly heard the mayor's words as he looked upon his lovely bride, mesmerized by her beauty. Amerei was smiling at him, radiant, gorgeous in her wedding dress, white flowers decorating her hair. From the corner of his eye, he could see his father beaming with pride, his mother trying to hold back her tears, unlike his aunt Genna, whose tissue was already soaked. He saw Martyn, Mary by his side, the young man standing on his two feet, a cane near him. To everyone, it was just an accessory to his outfit. The first moments after the surgery had been Hell for Martyn, painful, but he never gave up, thinking on how Lancel had battled himself. Now, apart from a slight limp, he was just as independent as he had been before the accident. Lancel briefly thought of Willem, of how he would have looked had he lived to see this and for a short moment, he could swear he had seen a glimpse of him, smiling, ready to celebrate his brother's big day. Was it a sign of the Seven that Willem was happy, wherever her was? He didn't know.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Lancel had never been as eager to obey an order in his life. As Amerei kissed him back, he knew one thing:

Anything broken in him, he could mend.

Because he wasn't alone.

He'd never be alone again.

 ** **The End****


End file.
